


already human

by Pangaea, TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Black Mirror (TV), Paterson (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Androids, Comfort Food, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28532937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pangaea/pseuds/Pangaea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Ash has been trying to figure out the proper way to thank the man who has opened up his home to him and given him shelter and support for months.And while Paterson's private and soft-spoken nature sometimes makes his wants and desires hard to read, even for an android, Ash soon learns that the old human adage is still true: the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Paterson (Paterson)/Ash Starmer
Comments: 14
Kudos: 61





	already human

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my entry for the Kylux Adjacent/AU zine! I went with Ashterson because I wanted to explore an adjacent ship for once. Hope you guys like it!
> 
> Art is by my friend Pan!

Paterson was a kind man. 

Ash had not known him long, but he was still the kindest man he’d ever met. He didn’t speak much, and when he did it was soft and gentle and warm, voice like none Ash had ever heard before. He knew that many believed that androids couldn’t feel things the same way that humans did, and maybe there was a difference, Ash couldn’t be certain. But one thing he was certain about, was that being with Paterson made him feel safe. Made him feel _ loved, _ even if deep down an android wasn’t capable of such things. Perhaps Paterson was just that extraordinary of a human being. Ash certainly believed he was. 

He had never asked Ash for anything in return for allowing him to stay at his house, but that didn’t stop Ash from wanting to show him his appreciation. He’d puzzled over what to give Paterson for days, before realizing that he ate more or less the same thing every night— a microwaveable meal of salty Salisbury steak, greyed mashed potatoes, some wilted looking greens, and a warmed glob of instant vanilla pudding. Efficient but not exactly gourmet. And though Paterson never complained, it had gotten the gears in Ash’s head turning. 

Since then, he had perused many recipes in his online database, cross-referenced with surveys of the surrounding area of what foods the common person found the most satisfying. He found there was no dearth of options—Americans loved their comfort food, after all—but eventually, Ash zeroed in on a delightful-looking chicken pot pie recipe transplanted and updated from a 1960s print cookbook, made with plenty of cream and butter and tender vegetables, and topped with an attractive looking crust of sculpted leaves and braided dough.

Ash felt positively giddy as he set his plan into motion. On Friday morning, he saw Paterson off to his shift, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek as he went out the front door, then got to work. 

It was risky for an android to go out without human accompaniment in many public places, so instead of venturing out into the supermarket on his own, Ash accessed the most-highly rated grocery delivery app on his network, and quickly plugged in what and how much of each item he needed for the dinner. On a whim, he clicked on an advertised special for a carton of ice cream, and bought that too—cookies and creme, Paterson’s favorite. It would be a nice, deliciously sweet way to end the evening, Ash thought. Also, it matched the black and white decor he’s set up around the house in the recent months of his stay, which he found amusing. There was something satisfying about those two shades together. Maybe it was something to do with binaries, something embedded in his code. Of course, humans liked that combination too, so who knew. 

It would take some time for the groceries to be delivered, so Ash decided to scour the house for a chore to do. Usually, if he looked hard enough, he could find something that needed cleaning or rearranging, even with Paterson’s sparse furnishings and personal items. 

Already the house was so full of memories for Ash. The fluffy, damasked throw rug in the living room he’d bought on his first trip outside with Paterson. The television that had been playing some silly, indulgent romantic comedy the first time he’d dared to kiss him, as they’d sat close together on the couch. The window next to the front door, where he had seen Paterson walking back up the driveway after his shift, solidifying in Ash’s mind that he wasn’t just brought to this house to be abandoned and forgotten yet again. 

His reminiscing took him upstairs to the master bedroom, where he first remembered waking up inside of the house, his systems rebooting back to life. He could still feel that first sensation of warm cotton against his artificial skin, so different from the rough, freezing concrete and asphalt he had been sleeping on. 

Ash sat on the bed, smiling fondly as he ran his hand over the covers, feeling out the patterned quilting. It was handmade, Ash could tell by the imperfections in the stitching, the way some of the colors that were probably supposed to match up just didn’t. It was far different than the orderly world of code and data that Ash was most familiar with, but instead of being alienating and confusing, it felt nice. To examine something so interwoven with the fallibility and warmth of humankind. 

Ash spent most of the early afternoon sprucing things up around the house, everything from vacuuming the carpets to laundering Paterson’s old uniforms, ensuring they would be freshly washed and neat for the following week. By that time, it was late enough for him to begin to think about starting dinner, so he flitted back towards the kitchen and called up the recipe he’d been looking at earlier. 

It was simple enough to follow, thankfully. Ash had never cooked much before, but he was programmed to be a fast learner. It helped that the instructions were fairly intuitive and self-explanatory, designed for beginners rather than elite chefs. Ash could probably teach himself the fancy technicals employed by that sort of person, but Paterson was a simple man who probably wouldn’t care for coq au vin or croquembouche. A hearty pie packed with meat and veggies would no doubt do the trick—at least, Ash hoped it would. 

Donning his black and white polka dot apron, Ash set about preparing the pastry. Paterson was not so much of a bachelor that he didn’t have butter and flour, allowing Ash to get started on the pie as the delivery app  _ pinged _ , informing Ash that his order was on its way. He quickly scoured his database for tips on the best pie crust, and while some recipes called for surprising ingredients like vodka and sour cream, things he was almost sure Paterson didn’t have in the kitchen, he picked up enough applicable advice to get a good dough going. Apparently, pastry crust liked to be cold, which made the fact that Ash could independently control the temperature of his hands very, very useful. He preened. Maybe he would become an expert piemaker, with a little more practice. 

The doorbell rang just as Ash was putting the two wrapped balls of dough in the fridge to chill. It struck him that he would be face to face with a human that wasn’t Paterson for the first time since his ordeal, and he froze up, feet rooted into the carpet. A second ring of the doorbell brought him out of it, though he walked stiffly to the door, eager to get this over with. 

Thankfully, the delivery girl at the door didn’t seem to notice he wasn’t human. She cheerily asked him for his name and the confirmation number, which he quickly flashed on the phone Paterson had gotten for him, that linked with his database. None the wiser, the girl merely nodded and smiled, handing him over his bags of groceries and wishing him a good day. 

“Ah, thank you. You have a good day too,” he said, surprised but genuine happiness in his voice as he waved her off, then shut the door behind him. With a renewed spring in his step, he made his way back to the kitchen to get started on the filling for his pie. 

The house was brimming with the scent of cooking cream and browning butter by the time Paterson got back home, the purple twilight bathing the neighborhood behind him just barely filtering in around his broad silhouette. He closed the door with a softness incongruous with his height and bulk, opening his mouth to greet Ash when the aroma kissed his nose. 

Ash found him like that, standing in the living room, lips slightly parted, nose up in the air. Ash can’t help but laugh at the sight, the soft sound drawing Paterson’s attention—as well as a bit of pink blush to his cheeks.

“You…are you making something?”

“Sure am! I hope you’ll like it.” Ash padded forward and took Paterson’s hand, his delicately and precisely crafted fingers interlocking with Paterson’s thick ones, calloused from years of gripping the old bus’s wheel. Ash led him to the kitchen, where the pie sat bubbling and hot in the oven, nearly done. Paterson crouched down when Ash flicked the oven light on, peering through the splotchy orange glass. 

“Pie?”

“Chicken pot pie. With plenty of veggies.” Ash grinned, giving Paterson’s hand a squeeze. “I ordered groceries all on my own and everything. The delivery lady was very nice.” He let slip out, knowing Paterson worried about him interacting with other humans after what had happened, but wanting to let him know everything was fine. 

Paterson nodded as he straightened back up. Turning to Ash he took his other hand in his, something that made the android’s heart flutter a bit, as it was rare for Paterson to take initiative with affection. He’s not a cold man—he would absorb tenderness and reciprocate it wholeheartedly, but he was shy, usually needing someone else to take that first step.

“Thank you. I…I don’t remember the last time someone’s cooked for me,” Paterson murmured. The blush on his face had deepened, cutely. Ash found him  _ so  _ cute, despite the fact that Paterson towered over most other men his age and was as broad as a barn. It didn’t matter how large and intimidating he should be, going by his bulk. His shy demeanor, soft tone of speaking, and little details like his blush and the way his ears stuck out from the sides of his simply combed hair, made him absolutely adorable. 

Feeling a little bold, Ash stood up on his tip-toes and quickly pecked Paterson on the lips. “Of course. From now on… fewer TV dinners, more home-cooked meals.” 

“Ah…” Paterson stumbled over his words, distracted by the soft kiss. “Only…only if it’s not too much trouble. You don’t have to do anything to…I don’t expect you to do anything.”

Ash couldn’t resist kissing him again, this time staying close when they broke apart. “I know. I  _ want _ to.” He gave Paterson a pat on the cheek. “Now go sit at the table. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

As if hearing his words, the little dairy cow timer atop the oven let out a buzz. Paterson excused himself as Ash slipped on a pair of oven mitts. He didn’t need them, as his artificial skin could withstand temperatures up to nine-hundred degrees, but they were cutely patterned and had come in the mail only a few days ago, so Ash wanted to try them out. 

He brimmed with excitement—and a bit of nerves—as he waltzed out of the kitchen where Paterson sat, still in his slate-blue uniform, with a softly anticipating smile on his face. Though he often kept a neutral expression out of habit, Ash could see Paterson’s eyes light up once he saw the perfectly browned top of the pie, decorated with two garlands of leaves braided together in the middle.

“W-Wow, uh…you did this all today?”

Ash nodded, the nerves in his chest jumping up into his throat. He set the pie on the center of the table, on a folded kitchen towel. 

“I really hope the inside turned out as nicely as the outside did.” Ash cut out a slice of the pie, worrying momentarily it was a little too big, but remembering the day Paterson had demolished an entire container of store-bought sugar cookies after a grueling shift. He held his breath as he lifted up the pie server, but the chunks of chicken, potatoes, and vegetables stay relatively intact until he slid it onto Paterson’s plate. Paterson thanked him softly, digging into the pie with his fork, blowing on the steaming morsel for a moment before popping it into his mouth. 

“How is it?” Ash tried and failed not to appear anxious, his hands clasped in front of him. Paterson chewed slowly, almost agonizingly so. Ash, who had been attacked in broad daylight and tossed into the garbage, had never been through something so nerve-wracking. 

Then, after what seemed like an eon, Paterson went in for another bite. Then another. Only after the fourth did he seem to remember Ash was standing there, and blushed in embarrassment as he brought a napkin over his mouth.

“Ash…”

“Yes?”

“This…” Paterson swallowed, drawing the napkin away from his mouth so Ash could see his smile. “This is the best pie I’ve ever had.”

Ash’s heartbeat picked up, cheeks flushing. 

“Well. I mean. You deserve it. You really do! You’re the most gentle, most hard-working, and kindest man I’ve ever met. I…I wouldn’t be operational, alive today if not for you,” Ash said in a rush. Paterson looked up at him, surprised, and Ash looked away with embarrassment, missing the way Paterson’s expression melted to soft, open affection. 

“I’m sorry, don’t want to bring the mood down…”

“It’s alright.” Ash looked back around as Paterson carefully took his hand, running his thumb softly over Ash’s forefinger. He was so careful with him. Ash knew he possessed a hardy endoskeleton, one that wouldn’t break so easily, and yet the gentle way Paterson handled him, like he was crafted from spun glass, made his heart soar. 

“Sit down, please?” Paterson mumbled, finally letting go of Ash’s hand to gesture at the still-steaming pie. “You should have some too. You worked so hard.”

“It’s okay, I made it all for you Remember? Androids don’t really need to eat like humans do.”

“I know you don’t. But I want you to sit with me and have some, if that’s okay.”

Ash blushed, removing his apron and taking the seat across from Paterson. “Of course. Of course it’s okay.” He cut himself a slim slice and offered Paterson a second, which he quickly accepted. Ash watched him tuck in, before daintily sampling a bit of pastry. And while he might not have anything to compare it to, given he’d never tasted any other kind of pie before, he knew there wasn’t anything more wonderful, more comforting, than enjoying a nice meal with the man who had saved his life. 

The man who he loved. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to read your comments if you have them! 
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


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